Monday, June 8, 2009

Some people will get you as early as November. Cut you at the stem and drag your dying body though a field. They put you in a machine that shakes you so violently your loose bristles fall off. They wrap you in string so tight you can barely breathe. A man carries you out to his red Silverado and his kids are so excited to see you.

When you finally pull into the driveway they cut at you again and unstrap you. You are propped up in this big metal can that has water inside. The kids throw wires on you and it tickles. They hang glass bulbs of every color onto you like jewelry.

You feel beautiful and don’t mind that your dying. One morning you find dozens of wrapped gifts under you and watch as the children’s eyes explode with innocent excitement. And you realize that your sacrifice was worth it.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Right now, I’m feeling pretty gooddon’t you worry about me.If I let it affect everything,it’s going to own everything.I don’t deny itor pretend it’s not there,but if I don’t allow it to be biggerthan it is,I can do everything else.

My body is an isometric exercise,I’m always putting pressure against things.Whatever I’m doing at any given time,I’m also doing something else-I’ve always got this thing going on.I can’t always control my bodythe way I want to, and I can’t controlwhen I feel good or when I don’t.I can control how clear my mind is.and I can control how willing I am to step upto anything if somebody needs me.

One thing the Illnesshas given me,is a degree of death.I have accepted that loss and it’shelped me to realize there’s gonnabe that big loss.I can now accept anything,acceptance is the key to everything.My happiness grows in direct proportionto my acceptance.

I have to think of myself as a regular human being,with an incurable optimistic illness